


Until You've Had Enough and You're Ready to Stop

by brioscotty



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brioscotty/pseuds/brioscotty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel finds gay porn on her roommate's computer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS: None. It’s pretty AU, Quinn and Rachel meet at college.  
> NOTES: This was originally based off a prompt that I’ve now lost the link for. Smart me. Completed for Faberry Week 2012 – Day 7 – College. Title taken from Avenue Q’s The Internet is for Porn.

Rachel finds her room empty when she returns from her final class of the morning. Checking her roommate’s new Spring schedule, she finds that the other girl has classes until twelve followed by a meeting with one of her professors. Tossing her books onto her desk and kicking off her shoes, Rachel makes her way to her bed and collapses in a heap in a similar manner to the way she had fallen into bed the night before.

Last night had been the finale of a show she’d been cast in through one of her tutors at college, followed by a cast party. Followed by an after-party. Her roommate had greeted her at three in the morning with a glass of water, two painkillers and a smirk.

With a heavy sigh, Rachel pulls her pillow over her head and tries to block out any light and noise. When her phone blares into life seconds later, she nearly throws the pillow across the room. However, her roommate’s face grins out from the screen and she can’t help but smile in return.

“I’m trying to nap,” Rachel answers, burying her head under the pillow again.

“Awww, I’m sorry,” the other girl’s voice crackles down the line followed by a chuckle. “So, I just passed by that cinema you dragged me to a couple of weeks ago to watch that lame romantic comedy…”

“Which you cried during,” Rachel interjects.

“Whatever,” the other girl says. “They’re playing a couple of horror movies and you promised…”

Rachel makes a noise of discontent, drowning out the rest of the sentence.

“Fine,” she acquiesces. “But I need sleep first.”

“Could you look up the times before you pass out? I have the site bookmarked, use my laptop.”

“Okay,” Rachel says, tossing the pillow to one side.

“See you later, roomie,” the voice says before the call drops. Rachel rolls off the bed to grab the laptop which is buried beneath a pile of sketchbooks and drops down at her desk, clicking the power button. She opens up the browser and scrolls quickly through the list of sites on the bookmarks list, finding the cinema halfway down. But before she can click, she spies something else; another folder at the bottom of the list named:  ‘From S’.

Interest piqued, Rachel forgets about the movie times and opens the folder, frowning at the names of some of the pages. Despite knowing that she’s completely out of bounds and overstepping lines, Rachel clicks the first website and waits for it to load.

The video starts to play automatically and the sound of very energetic grunting fills the room. Rachel’s jaw drops to the ground as she watches two bodies writhing together on the screen, fake moans punctuating every thrust. It takes a few moments for Rachel to regain her motor skills and when she does, she slams the laptop lid down, silencing the video.

“Oh my god,” she says vacantly, standing up from the desk and moving back to her bed.

Porn. On her roommate’s computer.

Thinking rationally, she surmises that everyone has needs and it isn’t as though Rachel Berry has never watched a porn video.

But in the ten or so seconds she’d watched, she’d noticed that both of the participants had been female.

_Lesbian_ porn. On her supposedly-straight roommate’s computer.

Rachel risks a glance at the laptop again unable to get the image of the two women out of her head. Wrestling with indecision, she forces herself to stay put and stares straight ahead at her roommate’s bed. Where the other girl probably watches porn. And touches herself.

When Rachel whimpers aloud, she feels ashamed for violating her roommate’s privacy like this and for imagining the other girl stretched out on the bed, back arched as she…

“No!” Rachel exclaims to herself, shaking her head to try and rid herself of the thoughts.

But it’s too late.

She wrenches her gaze from the bed across the room and lies back on her own, linking her fingers across her abdomen and crossing her legs at the ankles. She could ignore it. She could forget that she ever clicked on the website. She could…

“Movie times,” Rachel says to herself. “I clicked the wrong website. That’s all.”

She moves quickly from her bed and takes a calming breath as she sits down at the desk and opens the lid of the laptop again. The website flickers into view once more, paused at the moment where Rachel had panicked. She moves the pointer to the right hand corner, ready to click out of the screen.

“Close the page,” she tells herself. Her hand ignores her request and moves back to the video, hovering instead over the triangular play button. “One minute,” she bargains with whatever part of her body is listening. “That is it.”

When the video resumes, Rachel hurriedly lowers the volume and sits back to watch with her arms folded across her chest and an intention to keep her hands where they are.

Three minutes later, Rachel glances at how long the video has to go and decides it would be downright rude not to see how it finishes, especially since there are only a couple of minutes to go. Not that she’s thinking about either of the women on the screen screaming their way through their fake orgasms. And she definitely isn’t thinking about her roommate hidden beneath her covers, trying to be as quiet as possible as she watches these videos.

“God,” Rachel mutters, crossing her legs and moaning at the dampness she can feel spreading between them. She shifts uncomfortably on the chair before her gaze flicks towards her bed. “Stop it,” she tells herself. One video, movie times then a nice, long nap.

The video ends with both women thrashing wildly against each other, moaning and gasping, and leaves Rachel’s lower half straining against the chair she’s sitting on.

Without hesitation, she automatically opens up the next video on the list, movie times forgotten once again. Deciding that her desk chair is not quite comfortable enough, she pauses the video before it can start properly and lifts the laptop over to her bed, settling back against the pillows. She feels her earlier tiredness start to seep back into her body and is torn between watching another video and giving in to sleep.

The ache between her legs makes the decision for her and she leans forward to click the play button.

This time, the video is less frantic. Rachel is pretty sure that the two women featured – a blonde and a brunette - are the same from the first one and idly wonders if all of the videos that Quinn has bookmarked star this pair. Her thoughts become hazy however as this video focuses intensely on the blonde’s hands, how softly they trail over the other woman’s skin before becoming rougher as they cup the brunette’s breasts.

With a quiet moan, Rachel knows it’ll only be a matter of time before she’ll have to relieve the ache between her legs that’s rapidly spreading to other parts of her body. She doesn’t even attempt to stop her hand as it unbuttons her shirt and slides inside to palm her breast and a heavy sigh falls from her lips as a pulse ripples through her body.

Watching as the blonde teases the other woman’s nipples on the screen, Rachel slides her hand inside her bra to do the same, groaning in relief as she pinches and rolls it between her index finger and thumb.

The camera pulls back slightly when slightly parted lips lower to the brunette’s chest and encircle one nipple as fingers continue to tease the other causing the woman to arch upwards from the bed and release a sensual moan. Rachel bites down on her bottom lip as she removes her hand from her shirt and turns her attention to the throbbing between her legs.

She unbuttons her jeans and pushes down the zip quickly, losing focus on the screen as her need to relieve the pressure building inside her overtakes her desire to see how the video pans out. Her eyes close as her fingertips circle her entrance and she all but growls at how wet she is. Eagerly, she slides two fingers inside, working them in and out with short strokes, constricted by how tight her jeans are.

“God,” she mutters to no-one, eyes opening slightly to glance at the screen where the blonde’s head is bobbing rhythmically between the brunette’s trembling legs. Rachel pushes her other hand inside her jeans to press against her clit, working her fingers in tight circles. The moans bursting out of the speakers start to escalate as the brunette nears her climax and Rachel knows that she won’t be able to hold out much longer.

Especially when her gaze falls to the bed across the room and thoughts of her roommate watching this video - legs spread as she quietly thrusts into herself beneath her blankets, her other hand pressed to her mouth so that Rachel won’t be alerted to her actions - flash through her mind.

Whispering her roommate’s name, Rachel’s hips rocket upwards off the bed as her orgasm wracks her body and renders her motionless, trying to process what had just happened. She’d just fucked herself while watching lesbian porn… _good_ lesbian porn, she corrects herself. And while thinking about her roommate; her roommate who she’s long assumed to be one of the straightest people she’s ever encountered.

Too tired to comprehend any of it, Rachel removes her hands from her jeans and climbs unsteadily from the bed to pull them off, leaving them in a heap on the floor along with her shirt and panties. Reaching into the drawer next to her bed, she grabs a clean t-shirt and underwear and hurriedly pulls them on before tumbling back onto her bed. With a final glance at the laptop, where the second video has finished, Rachel pushes the lid down and snags the corner of her blanket, drawing it up to her waist.

Moments later, she’s fast asleep, falling quickly into dreams of hands and skin and a familiar head of blonde hair between her own legs.

**xxxxx**

Quinn raises her hand in greeting as she passes a couple of girls she knows from down the hall, giving them a smile as she makes her way down the corridor to the last room on the right. As quietly as possible, she slips into the room, knowing that her roommate is trying to sleep. In the semi-darkness, she can make out a lump on the bed on the right side of the room.

Squinting slightly, Quinn makes her way to her own bed, placing her bag on the end and glances at her desk, trying to distinguish her laptop from the sketchbooks that she never seems to have time to organise. When she can’t find it, she frowns and goes to check her roommate’s desk before spotting it on the bed next to the lifeless lump hidden beneath a blanket.

She settles down and grabs a pair of earphones from the bedside table to the right of her bed before opening it. The brightness of the screen causes her to narrow her eyes before her mouth falls open in shock and the colour drains from her face.

“Fuck,” she whispers, staring at the screen before her gaze rockets over to the other bed.

Panicking slightly, Quinn reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. With her heart pounding somewhere around her ears, she taps a frantic message to her best friend before closing all the open windows on her laptop. She closes the lid a little too loudly and her roommate shifts in her sleep, mumbling inaudibly before settling on her stomach.

She shoves the laptop underneath her pillow and grabs her keys and purse before fleeing the room. She’s halfway to her best friend’s apartment when her phone buzzes in her pocket.

_Meet you at Joe’s. This better be good._

Quinn changes direction and heads towards their favourite bar instead, ordering two of her usual and heading straight for a booth near the back. She’s halfway through her second drink when footsteps approach and Santana drops down across from her.

“I walked out of Hot Pscyh professor’s class for this,” Santana says in greeting before eyeing the empty glass and the second one in Quinn’s hand. “Thirsty?”

“Little bit,” Quinn replies. “Can I get you something?” She gestures to the bar, already feeling the effects of her drink working its way into her system.

“Just one,” Santana says, checking her watch. “I have a seminar at three that I absolutely under any circumstances cannot miss…”

“Only because you’re trying to sleep with the TA,” Quinn reminds her. “You have a girlfriend, remember?”

“I have a long-distance, open relationship,” Santana bites back. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

Quinn nods and heads back to the bar returning seconds later.

“Have you eaten lunch?” Santana asks, watching Quinn down her third faster than she’s ever witnessed her best friend drink before. Quinn shakes her head and reaches for her fourth before pausing.

“Rachel found the videos,” she says before chuckling mirthlessly and taking a sip from her glass. Santana mulls this over, lifting a glass to her own lips.

“Oh.”

In silence, the pair drinks until Santana goes to order a basket of chilli fries and another round of drinks. When she returns, Quinn is resting her forehead on top of her folded arms.

“What did she say?” Santana asks.

“Nothing. She was asleep when I got home. My laptop was lying on her bed and when I opened it, one of the videos was on the screen.”

Santana snickers as Quinn slumps her head back down onto the table.

“So Berry knows you’re a big gay perv,” she says with a shrug. “She was going to find out eventually.”

Quinn raises her head to give Santana a look of disbelief.

“Maybe this wasn’t the best way to tell her…” Santana continues before her eyes light up. “Did _she_ watch the video?! Which one was it?”

“I don’t know! I was a little busy freaking out that…”

“That she might shun you for being a…” Santana glances around the practically empty bar over-exaggeratedly and lowers her voice, “ _lesbian?_ Have you met Rachel? Y’know, the one who has two gay dads and a gay best friend and plans on working in quite possibly the gayest business in the world?”

“Could you say gay a little more loudly? I don’t think the old guy at the other side of the bar heard you,” Quinn mumbles with an embarrassed roll of her eyes. She takes a longer sip on her glass and sighs. “She won’t shun me. I just didn’t want her to find out like this.”

“Then maybe you should have hidden your porn better,” Santana says simply. “Look, it isn’t the end of the world. Who knows? Maybe she enjoyed it.”

Quinn tilts her head to the side as a whole series of images that she barely lets herself think about when she’s lying in bed waltz into her mind. Rachel enjoying gay porn. Rachel getting herself off while watching gay porn.

Santana sighs and snaps her fingers in front of Quinn, making her best friend jump.

“Your subtlety is rather astounding,” she says drily. “It’s not as though you labelled the videos ‘Rachel, watch this because I have a huge crush on you and would really, _really_ like to try this out sometime…’”

Quinn’s cheeks burn bright red and she shakes her head, before regretting her decision to do so. The alcohol has reached her empty stomach and the bar has started to spin a little. She reaches for the chilli fries that have just arrived at the table.

“You look like you’re going to hurl,” Santana notes. “At least if you and Berry do get your shit together, you’ll be the cheapest date she’s ever had.”

“Shut up,” Quinn slurs and closes her eyes. “Just get me another drink if you’re not going to say anything constructive.”

“Repressed,” Santana says in a sing-song voice before heading towards the bar.

“Asshole,” Quinn calls after her before the giggles start.

“Lightweight,” Santana says, flipping Quinn off before turning back to the barman.

**xxxxx**


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See Part 1 for summary/notes

Rachel settles down at the table across from her best friend and immediately adds three packets of sugar to her drink. Kurt eyes her suspiciously before sighing and taking the lid off his own drink. He stirs in one packet of sweetener and watches Rachel fidget with the empty packets, arranging them in a neat row before folding each one into random shapes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Hmm?” Rachel answers, glancing up her best friend. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is that’s clearly bothering you,” he says before taking a long sip of his coffee and exhaling contentedly. “What’s wrong?” He adopts his listening face to which Rachel rolls her eyes.

“It’s Quinn,” Rachel murmurs, turning her attention back the sugar packets. Kurt tuts softly and puts a hand on top of Rachel’s.

“I thought you were over her,” he says gently, knowing how long Rachel had moped over Quinn when they’d first moved to New York from their little backwater Ohio town. Weirdly enough, Rachel’s roommate had moved from another little backwater town in Ohio to New York.

Kurt had spent hours listening to Rachel yammer on at length about her roommate. If he’d saved a dollar every time Rachel had started a sentence with the word ‘Quinn’, he’d have enough money to feed his caffeine addiction, and probably Rachel’s, through the rest of their time at college.

“I was,” Rachel says. “I am…” she corrects herself uncertainly. “Something happened a couple of weeks ago and now things are pretty awkward between us. Well, they would be if Quinn could actually stand to have a conversation with me. She can barely look me in the eye.”

Kurt frowns and takes another sip of his coffee.

“So tell me then,” he says.

“I found porn on Quinn’s computer,” Rachel blurts out causing Kurt to choke on his coffee.

“Okay, wasn’t expecting that,” he says, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Can I ask why you weren’t using your own computer for that?” Rachel fixes him with a look.

“I was looking up movie times and got a little… sidetracked,” Rachel blushes slightly before shaking her head. “Anyway, she had a folder and I opened one of the videos and it was porn. Gay porn.”

“My gay or your gay?” Kurt interrupts.

“My gay,” Rachel says with an irritated sigh.

“So you watched?” Kurt asks with a smirk, his question immediately answered by Rachel’s crimson cheeks. “And enjoyed… my, where has the Rachel Berry of Lima, Ohio gone?!”

“Shush, do you want to hear the rest or not?” she asks.

“I’m not sure my delicate constitution can take it,” Kurt jests before waving his hand. “Continue with your sordid lesbian tales.”

“It was the day after the finale of the show so I um… fell asleep pretty soon after I’d watched the videos but when I woke up, Quinn’s laptop wasn’t on my bed and I’m pretty sure that I forgot to close the video down. And we’ve barely spoken to each other since then so she must know that I know.”

“Know that she’s gay or know that she enjoys watching porn?” Kurt asks. “Neither of which is a bad thing, by the way…”

“Both,” Rachel says, folding her arms on the table and resting her head on them with a dissatisfied huff. “And I think she’s embarrassed. _I’m_ embarrassed. Santana had to bring Quinn back to our room that night, she was so drunk. When I opened the door, Santana just gave me one of her looks, passed Quinn over and told me: ‘She’s all yours.’”

“You missed your opportunity to find out the truth then,” Kurt says. “Children and drunk people only ever speak the truth.”

“She could barely say hello, let alone tell me anything else,” Rachel says, lifting her head a little. “Kurt, why did I watch the damn videos?”

“Everyone has needs, Rach,” Kurt says reassuringly, reaching across the table to cup Rachel’s cheek. “And speaking of needs, the cute coffee boy has been making eyes at me since we sat down. Be right back.”

“Jerk,” Rachel calls after him.

“But you love me anyway,” he says, returning to the table to press a kiss to the top of Rachel’s head.

“Still a jerk,” she mumbles.

“I heard that,” he calls happily, going to order a coffee he could really do without.

**xxxxx**

**  
**

Quinn wakes with a jolt, glancing at the clock to make sure she hasn’t slept her entire Saturday away. It’s a little after three. She’s meeting Santana and some friends from home for dinner at around six.

“Plenty of time,” she mumbles, rolling onto her back and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Rachel had left at ten to spend the day with Kurt after politely declining to join Quinn and her friends for dinner.

_Politely_ , Quinn notes. Everything between them is so forced and polite now, as though they’re scared to tread on each other’s toes. Neither girl has mentioned the videos and Quinn isn’t sure how to broach the subject of her sexuality though she doubts Rachel will take any issue with it.

Rachel. She glances over at the other girl’s bed with a sigh and in startling clarity recalls the dream she’d been having just before she’d woken up. It had involved Rachel, of course. The girl has been plaguing her subconscious for months now, causing Quinn to wake up covered in sweat with an all-too-familiar ache between her legs.

She wets her lips as she glances down the length of her body and shakes her head before reaching down to lift her laptop up from the floor. She bypasses her ‘From S’ folder and opens a different website, one not sent to her by her best friend. Quinn appreciates the videos that arrive via email, usually with a short description so that she can decide for herself if she actually wants to watch, but she prefers to read.

Scrolling quickly through the list of familiar titles, she selects one of her favourite works, a short piece that never fails to get her worked up. She’s bookmarked a few of the author’s longer stories with an intention to read them all but always comes back to this particular story when she’s short on time or in need of a quick fix.

Today, Quinn isn’t in the mood for anything long or drawn out. She begins to read, letting her imagination take over, and slips a hand beneath the waistline of her pyjama pants in anticipation of what’s to come.

Her fingertip circles her clit as she reads the words, even though they’re etched in her mind clearly. A shaky breath leaves her lips as Quinn slides her fingers lower with teasing strokes, a quiet moan builds from her chest and she feels her thigh muscles tense as she imagines them wrapped around someone else’s body.

Sliding her fingers inside, Quinn gasps as wetness covers them and her muscles constrict around them.

“Fuck,” she mutters, smothering her words with her free hand though it’s unlikely that anyone will hear her; anyone apart from the roommate, whose key is turning in the lock.

Quinn freezes, mid-thrust, and stares horror-struck at the door.

“Quinn…?” Rachel calls as she walks in before catching sight of her roommate. She gasps, covering her eyes, and turns around to walk out of the room but misjudges how far she’s turned and walks into the wall, cursing as she bangs her head.

Quinn regains her motor skills, slamming her laptop lid down and straightening herself up as she clambers off the bed, grimacing at the loss of contact between her legs. She glances at her hand and, quickly coming to terms with the absurdity of the situation, smirks before wiping it on her pyjama pants.

“Sorry, I’ll come back,” Rachel is saying dazedly, rubbing her forehead.

“Rach, wait,” Quinn says, closing her hand around the other girl’s wrist. “Are you okay? Let me take a look.” She pulls Rachel around to face her, trying to ignore how red her own face feels. She cringes at the bruise blossoming on Rachel’s forehead and guides the other girl towards her bed. “Sit,” she says, pushing the shorter girl down onto the bed. “I’m going to run downstairs and get an ice-pack, okay?”

“It isn’t necessary,” Rachel says, squinting upwards at Quinn. “Honest, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Quinn asks hesitantly, walking towards the door to push it shut anyway. Rachel nods and clutches her head with a grimace. “I’m going to get you an ice-pack, okay? I know you keep a few in the freezer for after dance classes.”

“Okay,” Rachel acquiesces.

“I’ll be right back,” Quinn slips on her trainers and heads out of the room.

In the communal kitchen, she grabs a teatowel before finding an ice pack with Rachel’s name and room number written on it in permanent marker. As she climbs the two flights of stairs back up to their room, she presses the pack to her cheeks, hoping that she’ll look less red than she feels by the time she gets back to Rachel.

Rachel is lying down when Quinn returns, experimentally pressing her fingertips to the lump.

“Here,” Quinn says, wrapping the towel around the ice pack and holding it out.

“Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired,” Rachel says, fixing Quinn with a look before patting the bed next to her.

“You want me to…?” Quinn trails off before perching on the edge of Rachel’s bed and gingerly pressing the pack to the girl’s head. “I’m sorry… about what happened. I thought you were going to be gone all day.”

“Well, while _I_ wanted to go see the new Broadway exhibition at the Met, Kurt wanted to stay at Starbucks and flirt with the new coffee boy,” Rachel says, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll go with you,” Quinn says in a hurry. “Sometime. If you want.”

Rachel hisses through her teeth as a ripple of pain shoots through her head.

“Am I pressing too hard?” Quinn asks, drawing away slightly.

“You could press a little harder,” Rachel says, opening her eyes to stare up at Quinn. Quinn feels her cheeks start to go red once more. “What were you watching?” Rachel asks.

“I wasn’t watching anything,” Quinn replies defensively. The shorter girl fixes her with a disbelieving look. “I wasn’t! I was… reading.” Rachel’s mouth opens, but Quinn answers before the question is voiced. “Erotica.” She bites down on the corner of her lip and looks away.

Rachel raises her hand to Quinn’s cheek and forces the blushing blonde to look down at her again. Softly, she trails the pad of her thumb along Quinn’s jawline and watches the taller girl gulp.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re gay?” Rachel asks, surprising Quinn who’d been sure that Rachel had been about to ask what the story is about. Quinn remains silent. “I don’t care, by the way. It would be a little hypocritical of me if I did.”

“You’re…?” Quinn starts to ask but cuts herself off. Rachel manages a half-shrug.

“Pretty much,” she says with a chuckle. “Kurt is always mocking my complete lack of gaydar. I think he might be right though. I really am clueless when it comes to girls.”

Quinn mulls this over as she removes the ice pack from Rachel’s forehead, pleased to see that the swelling under the bruise has lessened.

“My family aren’t supportive,” Quinn says quietly. “When I told them, I was asked to leave my house. Santana and her family took me in so that I could finish High School before I moved up here to stay with my aunt until I started college.”

“I’m sorry,” Rachel says, reaching for Quinn’s hand. “Truly sorry. I feel sorry for them, your family, I mean. That they can’t see you the way I do. The way everyone else does.”

Quinn feels her mouth run dry at Rachel’s words and wonders how inappropriate it would be to lean down and kiss Rachel. She’s imagined it in her head so many times that sometimes she’s convinced that she’s actually done it.

“I’m sorry I interrupted earlier,” Rachel’s voice drifts into her consciousness and she blinks a couple of times. “It must be one hell of a story.”

“It’s pretty good,” Quinn laughs shakily, glancing over at her laptop. “It might even be better than that video you watched.” Rachel cringes and closes her eyes. “There are better videos by the way. The um…” Quinn is pretty sure she’s never blushed this much in her life. “The eighth one on the list is probably my favourite.”

Rachel’s lips spread into a devilish smile and she opens her eyes again.

“Tell me about it,” she murmurs, enjoying the fact that she’s making Quinn blush a more furious shade of red every minute.

“How about we watch it instead?” Quinn asks, failing to keep the tremor out of her voice, knowing that they’ll never see the end of the video. Rachel is already shifting closer to the wall, making space for Quinn who grabs her laptop hurriedly and opens up the bookmark list. “Did you enjoy it? The second video?”

“I enjoyed it more than the first,” Rachel admits ruefully. “Although I missed parts of it. Maybe we can watch that one again at some point.”

The eighth video starts to load and Quinn places the laptop near the end of the bed where they can both see it. It’s the same setting as the other videos: same bed, same couple.

“They’re actually friends of Santana’s,” Quinn says quietly, chuckling when Rachel’s chin drops slightly. “She keeps asking if I want to meet them but I think I’d spend the entire conversation stuttering.”

“I’d spontaneously combust,” Rachel says immediately. “Oh my…” her gaze becomes transfixed on the screen.

“Yeah,” Quinn agrees, glancing nervously at Rachel.

“Do you have…?” Rachel begins to ask before Quinn cuts her off with a sharp nod. “And you’d want to be the blonde in the video? Is that right?” Quinn’s nod is slower this time, not trusting any of the words that might fall out of her mouth at this moment. “Show me.”

**xxxxx**

**  
**

Rachel’s heart is hammering in her chest so loudly that she’s surprised their neighbouring dormmate hasn’t knocked on the wall to tell her to shut up.

She’s kneeling on her bed, watching Quinn strip off her pyjama pants and the tanktop she’d been sleeping in, wondering how on earth her day had ended up like this. Offering Rachel a nervous smile, Quinn advances on the bed and kneels in front of the other girl, glancing down between their bodies.

“Have you done this before?” Rachel asks, clearing her throat when her voice comes out a little croaky. When Quinn nods, Rachel feels her stomach flip over and her mind goes into overdrive as a series of images whizz through her brain. “Oh.”

“You look worried,” Quinn notes, reaching up to brush Rachel’s hair back off her face. She grins when Rachel nods. “Don’t be.”

“I’m not exactly experienced with… this,” Rachel says, running her hands over the straps resting on her hips. “And it intimidates me a little that you are. I’m not used to feeling intimidated. Not when it comes to this.”

“I’m not sure that one time counts as much experience,” Quinn says, biting down on her bottom lip. Tentatively, she wraps one hand around the hard shaft and gently tugs, enjoying the gasp that issues from Rachel’s mouth. “Just take it slow, okay?”

Taking a shaky breath, Rachel nods and tries not to focus on the way Quinn’s hand is stroking up and down or the pressure on her clit or the thought of Quinn bent over on someone else’s bed…

“God,” Rachel sighs, eyes drifting closed as Quinn’s hand becomes more insistent, her strokes more forceful. “Quinn.”

“Less nervous?” Quinn husks in the brunette’s ear, grinning when Rachel’s jaw drops and she whines in response. “Good.”

Rachel whimpers when Quinn’s hand drops away and the pressure between her legs lessens. She watches as Quinn turns around and leans over, elbows resting on a pillow. Rachel’s fingers absently find the tip of the strap-on and she tries to get her brain to process what’s happening.

Quinn, the object of so many of her fantasies and dreams, is on her bed. Naked. On her hands and knees, legs spread just enough to give Rachel a glimpse of something that makes the brunette’s stomach knot and her hands tremble and her legs go weak.

“Rachel?” Quinn asks, her voice laden with need as she glances backwards over her shoulder.

Allowing her instincts to take over, Rachel moves forward, timidly running her hands over Quinn’s skin before latching one hand onto the blonde’s hip and guiding the tip of the hard shaft to Quinn’s entrance. Beneath her, Quinn releases a shuddering breath.

“Please,” Quinn whispers, desperately trying not to push backwards against Rachel.

Forcing her nerves to the back of her mind, Rachel slowly slides into Quinn, relishing the way the strap-on presses back against her. She’s shaken from her reverie when Quinn moans raggedly, back arching and thighs clenching.

“Again,” Quinn groans, fingers clawing at the sheets. “Just like that.”

Rachel withdraws and, with a little more confidence, grips Quinn’s hips as she slides in once again, watching the muscles along Quinn’s back twitch and flex. Not waiting for Quinn’s command, she does it again, harder this time but pauses when the other girl curses.

“Are you okay?” Rachel asks, worry dropping back into her voice.

“Keep going.”

Still hesitant, Rachel starts to thrust her hips forward, trying to keep her rhythm under control. The way Quinn’s fingers are curling around the sheets and the agonised moans falling from her lips keep distracting her as well as the tension in her own legs and back and arms. She loosens her grip on Quinn’s hips, grimacing when she sees that she’s left faint marks on the pale skin.

“Rachel.”

The intensity of Quinn’s voice sends Rachel’s thoughts reeling and she loses her rhythm, bucking hard into the blonde. Quinn’s answering moan sends a spasm down Rachel’s back and she bucks again, gasping as the strap-on works against her clit.

_Fuck._

**xxxxx**

**  
**

Quinn can’t focus.

Her fingers are gripping the sheets in front of her so hard that her knuckles have turned white; her biceps are trembling with the effort of keeping her body in this position; her thighs are clenching, wishing that she could take more of Rachel; and she’s aching all over, ripples of pleasure spreading out along every nerve as Rachel continues to thrust into her.

With a ragged breath, she forces herself to look over her shoulder, eyes locking immediately with Rachel’s before dropping down to the brunette’s hips, how her muscles are flexing and contracting and…

“God,” Quinn growls, face dropping back down towards the bed. “So good.”

And then Rachel slows, the entire shaft buried inside Quinn, whose muscles spasm erratically. She’s about to turn around when she feels Rachel’s hand skirt over her hip, coming round to rest on Quinn’s abdomen. Fingertips draw a quick path southwards and single digit presses against the throbbing bundle of nerves between her legs.

Words fail her and the noise that comes out of her lips can barely be described as human. Rachel starts to move her hips again, rubbing her hand against Quinn in time with her thrusts.

It’s too much for her and she can’t focus. She forgets to breathe and she swears the room spins a couple of times before she’s moaning Rachel’s name and shuddering around the strap-on and wishing that Rachel would just keep her fingers _there_ for a little longer.

Her arms give out and she finds herself breathing in the scent of Rachel’s pillow for a few seconds. She whimpers at the loss of contact when Rachel pulls away and turns to find the other girl still kneeling on the bed, fingers idly running up and down the shaft.

“Lie back,” Quinn whispers, turning herself around and crawling up the bed towards Rachel on shaky arms and legs. “Take it off.” She glances down at the strap-on and Rachel immediately fumbles with the straps, raising her hips just enough to yank the harness off.

Quinn presses her lips to the corner of Rachel’s mouth.

“Relax,” she whispers and then slides back down the shorter girl’s body, pushing her legs apart. She glances up to see a mess of brown hair lift up from the pillow, gives her a smile and runs the tip of her tongue over Rachel’s clit.

“Quinn,” Rachel’s high-pitched cry causes their neighbour to bang on the wall.

Quinn rolls her eyes and continues working her tongue back and forth over the bud of nerves, feeling Rachel’s orgasm rolling over her in waves. She stops when Rachel threads her fingers through Quinn’s hair and lifts her head to give Rachel another smile.

“Better?” she asks and Rachel nods, closing her eyes as she struggles to control her breathing. Quinn moves back up the bed, brushing the back of her hand across her mouth.

They lie in silence for a couple of minutes while Rachel composes herself.

“That was intense,” she says at last and Quinn chuckles in response, ducking her head slightly to press her lips to Rachel’s temple. “You can kiss me, you know.”

Quinn grins and tilts Rachel’s face towards her own.

“It seems a little tame after what we’ve just done,” Quinn whispers, catching Rachel’s lips in a soft kiss. Their lips stay locked until Rachel’s hand brushes over Quinn’s breast, fingertips grazing over her nipple. “Mmm.”

“Was it better?” Rachel asks, transfixed by the way Quinn’s skin prickles under her touch. “Than the first time?” 

“It was different,” Quinn sighs as Rachel’s fingers tug gently at her chest. “Last summer, my aunt used to take me to her friend’s house in an effort to stop me from isolating myself from everything, which was kinda what I wanted to do… and her friend’s daughter basically took my hand on my first night there and led me up to her room. She said that if she was being forced to hang out with me then we were going to make the best of it.”

“She sounds like a treat,” Rachel says darkly. Quinn giggles. “What?”

“Jealous,” Quinn sighs. “It was different. I didn’t feel anything for her. It was all physical. Zero emotional attachment. I’ve never had that before.”

“And this?” Rachel asks.

“Well, I kind of like you, Rachel,” Quinn admits. “A lot.”

“I kind of like you a lot too,” Rachel replies, glancing up into Quinn’s eyes. “A lot.”

“Good,” Quinn says, ducking her head to kiss Rachel again. “Come out for dinner tonight?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Rachel asks, raising an eyebrow. “Because I don’t think it counts if Santana and your friends are there.”

“No, I’m going to ask you on a proper date later,” Quinn says hurriedly. “It just occurred to me that the only way I’m going to be able to leave this bed today is if you’re with me.”

Rachel considers the invitation as her gaze falls back to Quinn’s chest. She frowns slightly.

“The porn stars won’t be there, will they?”

Quinn laughs and shakes her head.

“What time is dinner?”

“Six,” Quinn replies, glancing at the clock on Rachel’s bedside table.

“Plenty of time,” Rachel grins before rolling Quinn onto her back and capturing her in a deep kiss.

**xxxxx**


End file.
